Someone else is cleaning my house. Right now.
I love it and it freaks me out. I feel like an adult, which I love and freaks me out.
Having a clean and tidy house is important to me. I did not grow up in a particularly tidy house (sorry, Mom) but it was tidy enough. I would often rearrange my room, clean out my closet, sort and order my books. Is there such a thing as being inherently tidy?
That is not to say I am always tidy. Like now. Having a baby has put a serious damper on my ability to tidy up and clean my house. I ADORE this little creature and wouldn’t trade him for a very clean house, and I am incredibly grateful that my dearest husband has been working so hard to clean up the kitchen each night and do the laundry and shovel the snow and take out the garbage and recycling and …it isn’t the same. Even paying someone, a professional, to do it isn’t the same as me just doing it myself.
Control freak much?
I admit it, reluctantly. I have discovered, mostly since becoming a bio-mom (though it was becoming clearer during my just-step-mom days), that I like to have control about time and space. I need to be on time, I need to use time efficiently, and I need my space to be functional, which for me means clean and tidy.
This is a problem though, because I almost always have a baby human attached to me these days. Eventually he will be less attached, but for now, even when he is in his wrap, I can’t really do much.
And we find one more way that motherhood has made me self-reflect. I love it, and I love that this baby human has given me this opportunity.
I just keep telling myself that in 15 years, when he is too cool to hug his mom, I won’t care anymore if the toilet is clean.